


peach

by northernwildflowers



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M, and begs him to teach him, nursey has dumb ideas, nursey is obsessed with seeing dex play, simply so he can watch him like a DWEEB
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-17 07:21:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9311351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/northernwildflowers/pseuds/northernwildflowers
Summary: Dex teaches Nursey how to play guitar and they bond over The Front Bottoms.





	

“Yo, Dex, you play guitar right?” Nursey calls down from where he’s leaning over the banister. There’s a clank of plates from the kitchen and Dex appears into the foyer, drying his hands on a tea towel before shoving it into the waist of his jeans. Nursey stares. 

“Yeah, why?” Dex asks; his face is neutral, but there’s a cautious edge to his voice. Nursey tries his best to seem charming. 

“Will you teach me?” Dex’s eyebrows disappear into his hair. 

“Are you serious?” Nursey nods enthusiastically. “ _Why?_ ”

“It'll add to my sex appeal.” He says vaguely, leaning towards Dex; he scoffs. “Come on, Dexy, teach me.” Dex rolls his eyes, heaves a long-suffering sigh. “Just the basics, come _on_.”

“God you’re annoying. But. Fine, alright, just the basics. Right now?” Nursey shrugs. Dex looks towards the kitchen then back up at Nursey. “I have to finish the dishes and then I'll be up.” 

“‘Swawesome.” 

Nursey is panicking. 

He hadn't expected Dex to agree that easily; he assumed there would be a little bit of begging, something about taking over dish washing duty or Dex’s laundry for the next few weeks. 

Nursey’s logic was this: if he couldn't convince Dex to play for him, he was going to trick him into it. He knew if was low, but Nursey was _desperate_. Everyone in the Haus--hell, almost everyone on the team--had heard Dex play, but whenever Nursey walked in, Dex would put his guitar away and claim that he had something else to do, that he was “done practicing, anyways.”

And Nursey wanted to see him play, so bad. Mostly, he just wants to have a proper reason to stare at Dex’s hands for as long as he could. Maybe he would learn how to play guitar out of it, too, and then turn around and seduce Dex with his newfound skill set. Nursey wonders if Dex knew what the fucking _concept_ of him playing guitar did to Nursey. 

He was ready. 

He was not ready. 

Dex shut the door behind him softly, one hand wrapped loosely around the neck of his guitar. Nursey remembers Dex plucking at it in the corner of the living room last night before blushing furiously and telling Nursey to shut up when he begged Dex to play something. Dex still looked cautious, and a little nervous, but went to sit at the desk chair under the window, placing the guitar fret-side-down over his lap. 

“I didn't even know you owned a guitar.” Dex says flatly, his eyes flicking to the instrument on the bed next to Nursey. He laughs nervously. 

“I've had it for a while, uh, I brought it back when I went home for spring break.” Nursey may have been planning this for a lot longer than he wanted to admit. 

“Hm,” Dex says, eyebrows twitching up momentarily, and maneuvers the guitar in his lap so he’s curled around it. Nursey doesn't know much about instruments, but it seems kind of small, at least relative to his own; it's endearing as hell, the way Dex folds around the instrument and almost envelops it. His right hand is smoothing up the back of the neck, holding it loosely, and all thoughts of “tender” fly from his mind. Nursey turns to grab his guitar in order to hide the blush on his face. 

“Am I holding it right?” Nursey asks. His kidding, for the most part, with a small smirk on his face, but Dex looks at him incredulously before puffing out a gust of a sigh. 

“Yes.” He says exasperatedly and flattens his forefinger over the third fret before changing his mind and placing each of his fingers over the strings in a way that looks like it _hurts_. He strums once. “This is a ‘G’ chord. Do you know what a chord is, Nursey, or do we have to go back to elementary school music class?” Dex chirps, still looking unimpressed. Pressing his fingers over his guitar, Nursey tries to mimic Dex, pursing his lips in concentration. He strums and Nursey doesn't think he’s ever heard anything that discordant in his _life_. 

“Uh,” Nursey starts; Dex rolls his pick around in his fingers, eyeing Nursey’s hands thoughtfully, before reaching over and lifting his ring finger before depositing it on the bottom string. Nursey isn't even sure what the string is _called_ but he doesn't exactly care: his whole hand is tingling where where Dex touched him. Dex looks at him expectantly and, when Nursey doesn't do anything, leans over again and strums Nursery's guitar for him; to Nursey’s surprise, it sounds good. “Huh. Cool.” He smiles up at Dex who shakes his head and breathes a laugh. Nursey swears he can see a smile pull at the corner of his lips. 

“You know The Front Bottoms, yeah?” Dex asks then and Nursey scoffs because, _yeah_ he knows The Front Bottoms. As far as Nursey was aware, it was the only common interest he shared with Dex when it came to music. 

“Shitty band from New Jersey?” He questions and Dex rolls his eyes, knowing full well that Nursey listened to them. 

“Buncha whiny white boys, yeah. They’re shit but it’s part of their appeal.” Nursey laughs, an embarrassing, gasping sort of thing that would have mortified Nursey if it weren't for the soft blush blanketing Dex’s freckles or the way his lips settled into a smirk.

“Is that how you introduce yourself to the girls? ‘William J. Poindexter, I'm shit but it's part of my appeal.’” He says in a poor mimic of Dex’s voice. Dex leans over and flicks him on the forehead. 

“First of all, guys, usually, and yes, it's worked for me so far. Second, do you want to learn how to not suck at guitar or not?” Nursey blinks. 

“Guys?” He asks, and his voice sounds rough. Dex’s cheeks are pink as he scrubs a hand over his face, then through his hair. He lets out a deep sigh. 

“Look, I'm just. Really sick of you guys assuming I'm straight and that seemed like a good idea, moment, whatever, can we just. Move on?” Nursey is still a little shocked, but he nods. 

“I'm, ah, sorry I assumed.” He says slowly. “Really, I'm sorry.” Dex nods, avoiding Nursey’s eyes. 

“We’re gonna learn a Front Bottoms song.” He says decidedly a moment later. 

“Alright,” Nursey stretches his hands. They ache like crazy but he’s not about to back down right when he’s about to see Dex play something. “Which song?” Dex purses his lips. 

“You choose. I'll tell you if it’s too difficult. Most of their songs aren't, so.” He shrugs and plucks a few notes out absentmindedly. Nursey thinks he looks beautiful like this. 

“Peach,” he says decisively. It has the desired effect, making Dex bite his lip hard and scrunch his nose. “If you're teaching me how to woo someone, my first song might as well be something as sappy as that.” 

“Oh.” Dex nods. “Yeah, yeah. You're right. It seemed like-” he cuts himself off, cheeks pink. “Yeah, you're right.” He resituates the guitar. “Uh, that song’s pretty easy; it’s six chords, and you've already learned one of them, so.” He pauses, thinks. “Do you want to learn guitar the _right_ way or the most effective way?” 

“Um,” Nursey, confused and wide eyes, has no idea what Dex just asked him. “What gleans the best results with minimum effort?” Now it’s Dex’s turn to look surprised, under that unimpressed facade that Nursey hates. 

“Did you just use the word ‘glean’ in casual conversation?” He sighs. “You're the worst. This is what I get for being friends with an English major.”

“We’re friends?” Dex isn't giving him that unimpressed look anymore, but the way it makes Nursey feel--ridiculous and small--is almost worse. 

“Yes, you dumbass, what the fuck did you think we were?” Dex scowls; Nursey shrugs, flexing his hand over the board, pressing the tips of his fingers to random frets. 

“I dunno, like, I consider us friends, I just didn't know if you, uh, felt the same.” He says honestly and Dex scoffs. 

“What the fuck, dude.” He's grinning though, shaking his head. “We’ve lived together this long and we still haven't killed each other, that's gotta mean something.” Nursey laughs. 

“Whatever, man, just teach me the song.” Dex moves his hand to a different position and Nursey gets an idea. “You should play it, first, though, so I know how it's supposed to look.” Dex rolls his eyes. 

“We’ll go verse by verse. The first chord is G, and then A, C, D. I'll show you after, uh…” he clears his throats and returns to the one finger position that Nursey recognizes. He strums a few bars before he starts to sing:

“You are my peach, you are my plum, you are my Earth, you are my sun. I love your fingers, I love your toes, the back of your head, the tip of your nose.” His hand slaps over the strings, muting them. “Right so--” Dex pauses and looks at him strangely. “Are you okay?” 

Nursey wants to die; his face feels so hot that it could melt off and he fears that, if he were to open his mouth, nothing would come out. Or. Everything-- _everything--_ would. Dex is looking at him, eyes wide and imploring, and Nursey can only imagine how his face might look right now; he’s pretty sure he’s gaping. He's positive he’s blushing. 

“Nursey.” There’s a hand on his shoulder. 

“What?” He blinks. Dex is leaning out of his chair, his hand firm on Nursey’s shoulder. 

“You zoned out on me there.” Nursey shrugs his shoulders slightly and Dex moves his hand, sits back down. “You good, man?” Nursey nods and smiles at him carefully. 

“Yeah, I'm fine. Teach me, oh wise Dex.” Dex smirks. The next half hour is, surprisingly, educational. Dex shows him “power chords” which use the same fingerings for each chord, just on different frets. It ends up being awfully effective, except that Nursey keeps referring to each chord by the fret it's on rather than the actual name of the chord. He doesn't, care, really, because Dex keeps grabbing his hand and fixing its position, lighting his skin on fire, and chirping him about his shortcomings. 

“Uh, and yeah, that's the song.” Dex says, leaning back in the desk chair. “Wanna do it in its entirety?” Nursey nods, a little hazy. He had gotten over the initial shock of seeing Dex, finally, play, but it still sent little sparks down his back every time he played a new verse. The ease with which Dex played--his hands sliding up the neck and fitting comfortably over the frets, his shoulders curling in to accommodate for the instrument, his fingers pressing so soft, but so firmly, over the strings that it looked like they weren't working at all (Nursey’s fingers, comparatively, were going white with how hard he was pressing)--made Nursey want to melt. Most shocking, however, was Dex’s voice. The guy had a nice speaking voice, Nursey was well aware of that, but he never expected that Dex could sing; his voice was kind of weightless, lilting and indicative of his accent in a way that his speaking voice was not. It wasn't really smooth, but abrasive in the way a cat’s tongue was: each word caught in Dex’s throat, just barely, and seemed to flatten Nursey completely. He wonders what his words taste like. 

“Yeah, let’s do it.” Nursey agrees. Dex goes first, plucking a few notes before starting on the chords, and gestures to Nursey with a nod of his head when to come in. Nursey does. Dex sings most of it but Nursey tries to come in when he feels comfortable; he still hasn't really gotten a handle on the whole “strumming pattern” thing, but he doesn't sound like complete shit. When they finish, Dex is looking at him strangely. 

“I've never actually heard you sing before.” He says softly; Nursey opens his mouth, but Dex cuts him off. “Screeching in the locker room and at kegsters _does not count_.” Nursey shrugs. 

“I've never seen you play or sing until today, so I guess we’re even.” Dex considers it, his mouth twisting. His face looks a little contorted, pained. 

“Your voice is...pretty.” He decides, looking down at his guitar and pretending to fiddle with the tuning pegs. 

“Oh.” Nursey breathes. He wonders if he was a hummingbird in a last life with how fast his heart is racing. “Um, I'm gonna go get some celebratory pie.” He says, standing. 

“Celebratory?” Dex asks, finally looking back up, smirking and incredulous. “You might have a nice voice, Nurse, but you still suck at guitar.” Nursey punches him in the shoulder. 

“Fine, its for you, then, for being such an adept teacher.” 

“I am pretty incredible,” he concedes. “If I was able to teach you.” Nursey opens the door, rolling his eyes. 

“Um, hi.” Chowder is crouched against the door, looking sheepish, and when Nursey looks further, Bitty, Ransom, Holster, and Shitty are lined up on the attic stairs behind him. 

“You guys don't even _live here_.” He yells at the latter three wildly. He knows his face is bright red. Everyone is smirking at him as he nudges Chowder out of the way so he can shut the door. 

“Brah, that was mad cute.” Shitty says, shoving his hands into his pockets and leaning against the stairwell. “You guys were, like, having a jam sesh? So cute, shit.” 

“Nursey, dude, I didn't even know you played guitar!” Chowder exclaims. He's still crouched on the floor, looking up at Nursey excitedly. 

“I, uh, don't, really.” He doesn’t want to tell them that he just begged Dex to teach him how to play guitar so he could creepily watch him for a half hour straight. “I'm gonna go get something to eat?” He says, trying to push past the boys. Bitty grabs his leg. 

“Your pie privileges are revoked until we get _deets_.” He says earnestly. 

“Shut up!” Nursey hisses. 

“Deets, deets, deets, deets, deets!” Holster and Ransom start chanting. 

“There are no deets!” He whisper-screams. “Oh my god, guys, he can hear us.” Nursey scrubs a hand down his face. 

“Bro,” Shitty says sagely, leaning towards Nursey; he feels compelled to do the same. “Go forth...and make some deets.” 

“Deets, deets, deets, deets, deets--” Ransom and Holster chant, hushed. Nursey groans before turning back to his room and slamming the door behind him. 

“Dex.” Nursey says, some mild rage and extreme embarrassment spurring him forward. Dex looks up from his phone. 

“What happened to the pie?” 

“Not important.” Nursey says roughly before walking the short distance to Dex’s desk and grabbing his cheeks with his hands. Dex’s eyes are wide, glinting like hammered bronze. 

“Are you--” and Nursey kisses him. Dex’s lips are rough against his, chapped and peeling, but it makes the kiss so much better. Dex doesn't seem to be all that surprised, now that the kiss was happening, and presses harder against Nursey, one hand moving to wind around his neck. “Wait,” Dex says, breaking the kiss--Nursey whines--before moving to put his guitar on its stand behind him. Then, he grabs Nursey by the waist and pulls him closer; Nursey swings a leg over Dex’s lap so that he's straddling the other boy and leans back in to press his lips to Dex’s. His hands find purchase on Dex’s shoulders, in his hair, down his arms, and he kisses Dex like his life depends on it. Nursey licks along the seam of his lips and Dex’s hands tighten around his waist, one hand finding its way up the back of Dex’s shirt and Nursey moans. The feel of the callouses on Dex’s hands, digging into the skin of shoulder blade, is too much. 

“Fuck,” Nursey sighs and Dex’s bites his lip, hard, before smoothing out the skin with his tongue. Then, there’s a shout of “Deets!” from the other side of the room as the door slams open. Nursey flinches, his arms tightening around Dex’s neck as he toppled backwards out of his lap. 

“FINE!” Ransom shouts over Holster’s “Deets!” 

“We were in our room! This wasn't even public! This is not fair, what the fuck.” Nursey complains, grabbing at the hand Dex was offering. As soon as Dex is supporting all of Nursey’s weight, he let’s go and falls back on his ass. Dex snickers; the boys cackle; Nursey groans. “Ow.” 

“Can we fine them for that? That was, like, blatant flirting for them.” Ransom stage whispers. 

“Nursey’s right, this completely violates the sin bin’s privacy clause.” Dex says, crossing his arms across his chest. He's blushing furiously, but it's almost offset by his scowl. Dex looks angry and uncomfortable and Nursey’s ass hurts like hell but he wants nothing more than to kiss him. “Also, you guys don't even fuckin’ live here.” He grumbles. Nursey digs into his back pocket, fishes for his wallet. 

“Get the fuck out.” He says, and flings the wallet in their general direction before grabbing Dex by the collar and pulling him in for another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like this had some weird abrupt changes and it's kind of rushed n shit but....,,.,.,.,...I hope you guys like it ty  
> AGAIN, I'm thrusting my pop punk Dex headcannons on you guys bc Dex of my heart was a shitty pop punk kid in high school  
> follow me on tumblr @ kaleidoscopeparson !!!


End file.
